


Stilinski's Store Tips

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been successfully posting signs around the store all morning, and then he hits a brick wall of a person who happens to be the owners' son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stilinski's Store Tips

**Author's Note:**

> this ficlet is a product of
> 
>  
> 
> [this post](http://saltedhalechips.tumblr.com/post/124083116452/obviousplant-i-added-some-store-tips-to-a)
> 
>  
> 
> and a friend sending me a message making it sterek

Stiles is a master at inconspicuous; he could write a book of tips to go unnoticed if that wouldn't lead him on to tangents that even he wouldn't be able to follow later. But that doesn't negate his skill at sneaking around.

It takes some concentration to contain his movements to what is socially acceptable, but considering he's managed to stick half his signs up around the grocery store without anyone even looking at him twice, he thinks he's doing a pretty amazing job. The hardest part is reigning in the urge to look up toward the cash registers where Scott is working, charming everyone that comes through his line with a ridiculously bright smile and an earnest, "have a nice day!" It's kind of sickening. Stiles is relieved Scott's never had any world domination plans or _everyone_ would be running around that happy.

Shuddering, Stiles pulls the next sign out of his jacket pocket--a benefit of wearing larger-than-necessary clothes being the extra big pockets--and sticks it under a jar of spaghetti sauce. He reads over the "store tip" as he titled all of them, and snickers to himself. He is a genius. He pulls the rest of the dwindling stack out to decide where he's going next, already heading off to the left because he, like everyone else, has fallen in the classic store trap that lures unsuspecting persons around in order to make the most money. He doesn't get very far before he's crashing into something that sends him sprawling, neatly laminated signs showering around him like oversized confetti. He expects to see the end of a shelving unit stuck out too far, but when he looks up, it's a person standing in front of him, completely unruffled by the collision. Which only makes sense considering the broad shoulders and frankly confrontational stance.

"Sorry about that!" Stiles says, not bothering to stand. He sits up and starts gathering the signs in his hands, a task more difficult than it sounded since they stuck to the floor and slid away from his grip. "I knew laminating was too much."

"What are you doing?"

Stiles looks up again, this time focusing for more than half a second on the face frowning down at him. It's a nice face, all sharp and a little stubbly with impressively lowered eyebrows. It also looks familiar, but he can't bring up a name to match. The longer stiles frowns back, the harder the line of their jaw becomes. A name is not important right now.

"Obviously I'm picking up my papers," he says, gesturing to the yellow-edged rectangles spread around him. He spots one all the way across the store and sighs. At least it isn't too busy today, makes it less likely it’ll kill someone. "What are _you_ doing, just standing there all big and looming? Do you like knocking people off their feet, because I gotta tell you, you could probably do that without the physical contact."

"What?" The face softens for a second, confusion flitting across before the frown is back and deeper than ever, apparently deciding Stiles' comment was either offensive or unimportant. "Why are you sneaking around?"

Stiles makes an affronted noise, holding up a hand. "I am not sneaking," he says, even though that's exactly what's he's doing. "I'm being inconspicuous."

"There's a difference?" It comes out a little flat.

"Yes! Sneaking implies ill will, and I am only blending in. You, on the other hand, look like you're trying to kill someone, so. Who's really the bad guy here, huh?"

Stiles raises his eyebrows expectantly and then goes back to trying to corral his store tips. This was a brilliant plan, and he is going to see it through, human brick wall or not. Said brick wall hesitates, one foot sliding forward an inch, and then crouches down to help. Stiles is too busy working his fingernails under one of the signs to glance at him, but he nearly gives himself whiplash looking over when he hears a quiet laugh.

"Naan Solo?" It's not really a smile that Stiles receives, but it's not an actual frown either.

"I'm a genius," Stiles says modestly, lifting one shoulder like, _what can you do._

He looks toward the last sign, right in front of the milk, just in time for Laura, a daughter of the store owners and Stiles' occasional snark partner, to slip on it. She catches herself with all the grace Stiles lacks, plucks the paper off the tile easily, and immediately zeroes in on Stiles. Who is still sitting on the floor. Like an idiot. Then her gaze moves to the walking frown above him and she grins. It's slightly terrifying.

"Derek!" She greets. Stiles scrambles to his feet, glad that all the cards are in his hands and not under his shoes. She strides over to them, holding out the sign for Stiles with a less predatory smile. "I believe this belongs to you."

"Thanks," Stiles says, taking it from between her fingers. "Sorry for almost killing you with it."

Laura waves a hand. "I'm too coordinated for that." She looks between him and Derek, much too interested, and stops on Stiles. "I didn't know you knew my brother."

 _So that's why he looks familiar_. Stiles shrugs. "We just ran into each other. Or, well, I ran into him, but he was just standing there so, not my fault."

Laura's eyes widen, smile growing, as she turns her attention to Derek. He's much less intimidating when being stared down by his sister--older sister, Stiles guesses; Derek doesn't look that much older than him, and Laura is almost 30.

"Derek, were you lurking? On the clock?"

"I don't lurk," Derek mutters. The thinning of his lips is much more petulant now. He uncrosses his arms to flick a hand in Stiles' direction before resuming the position. "He was being suspicious."

"Inconspicuous!" Stiles corrects, hands flying out. He's lucky the cards don't go flying again and tucks them back in his pocket more forcefully than strictly necessary. "No one appreciates my skills."

Laura pats his shoulder consolingly. "I'm sure someone does."

Stiles rolls his eyes and looks up toward the registers. He can no longer see Scott; instead it's Erica ringing people up, swiping everything across the scanner with a flourish. If Scott is on a break, he'll definitely notice Stiles there, and the signs are supposed to be a surprise for when he switched to restocking later that night.

"Gotta go," Stiles declares, slipping past the Hale siblings before sprinting to the baked goods and hanging the sign Derek had picked up for him. He just wished he had a pen...

Improvising, stiles pulls out his phone and sends a text to Scott as he rushes out the doors to his car. " _Tell Derek to go to the Italian aisle."_

 _"Ok..?_  "Scott replies a few minutes later. " _I can see ur car out there. How do u even know derek"_

Stiles lets the messages sit and waits, watching the door. Derek comes outside faster than he expected and walks right over to Stiles' jeep. Laura probably told him which one to go to. Stiles grins at him through the open window. Derek studies him for a few seconds before quirking his lips.

"You're an idiot," he says. Stiles shrugs.

"Some say idiot, some say brilliant." He holds out his phone. "So can I get your number?"

Derek shrugs, overly casual like he's mocking Stiles. "If you're really brilliant, you can come up with something better than a spaghetti pun."

Stiles gapes, and Derek smiles.

"Challenge accepted," stiles says, but it's said to Derek's back as he walks into the store. Slumping in the seat, Stiles opens a new tab on his phone and starts collecting puns. Challenge _so_ accepted.

 

**Author's Note:**

> apologies if there are a ton of errors, i originally typed it on my phone where i have auto-correct turned off


End file.
